Playboy Pilot(76)

“You look like you’re worried you’re going to miss your flight, mate.” He had what I thought might be an Australian accent.

“I’m trying to get on a delayed flight. There aren’t many seats left though.”

“You’re a pilot, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Don’t they give any preffy to the big boy at the head of the plane? What are you waiting on line like us cattle for?”

“It’s not the airline I work for.”

“Ah. Well you can go ahead of me, if it helps any. I’m three hours early for my flight.” The guy had a large dog carrier crate in front of him.

“You early to check-in your dog or something?”

“Or something.” He chuckled. “My wife and I were visiting here in New York. She won’t leave Mutton here home alone. The damn thing goes wherever we go.”

“Mutton?”

He leaned in and whispered, “That’s a goat I got in there.” Then he held his finger up to his mouth giving the universal sign for shhh. “Don’t tell the people at the airline. My wife thinks they won’t notice.”

I leaned over and peered into the crate. Sure enough, the guy had a small goat inside. “You don’t think they’ll know it’s a goat?”

“You haven’t met my wife, Aubrey. She went to hit the head. But by the time we’re done at this counter, they’ll be offering Pixy here Milk-Bones. She can sell wood to a forest. Come to think of it, you’re best going ahead of me. Because if they try to make this thing fly with farm animals, we’re going to be here for a good lot.”

I shook my head, amused. The guy was so charismatic and good looking, something told me he could sell the ladies behind the counter that the goat was a kitten if he tried. We talked for a few minutes, inching up a little at a time.

“So where you heading? Taking an adventure of some sort?”

“I hope so,” I said.

When the flight attendant called out ‘next’, the Aussie told me to go ahead of him. I extended my hand. “Thanks. Good luck with your…pet.”

“Thanks. Hope you find that adventure.”

I hope so, too.





IT WAS HER.

My chest tightened.

Holy shit. I wasn’t imagining all of this.

As I sat in my seat at the rear of the plane, I squinted my eyes to see every movement that Kendall made as she worked the front of the Boeing 737. It was surreal to see her in this role. It was like my worlds were colliding in the strangest way.

Somehow, she hadn’t seen me board. That was a blessing because I needed time to process. She’d been helping an old man stow something away in the overhead when I snuck past her in disbelief.

I debated confronting her right then, but this was neither the time nor place to deal with all we had to talk about. My greatest hope was that she didn’t freak out when she inevitably noticed me.

Getting her fired was also something I really wanted to avoid. I knew the deal. There were plenty of people waiting in the wings for flight attendant positions. A majority who go through the training never even end up getting hired by the airline. Even though I didn’t understand how she came to be here, clearly, it was something she wanted. I wasn’t going to risk taking that away from her.

The confusion swirling around in my head was mind numbing.

Did she have the baby or not?

Flight attendant training was only a couple of months. Technically, she could’ve trained while pregnant then flew up until a certain point when they stopped allowing it. What actually happened to her all of this time was a total mystery.

The flight to Boston would only be an hour. Thank God. There was no way I could have lasted longer being stuck in this spot and unable to get answers.

Beads of sweat were forming on my forehead. My heart was beating so fast that for the first time ever on an aircraft, I actually got a little panicky. I never particularly liked flying unless I was controlling things from the cockpit anyway.

Kendall assumed her position up front for takeoff. Once we were airborne, she would likely be heading down to the galley at some point. There was no way I would be able to hide unnoticed until the end of the flight. The thought of coming face to face with her in front of all these people made me ill.

Working as a pilot had prepared me to deal with dozens of potentially catastrophic scenarios. Despite that, I didn’t feel prepared in the least to face Kendall.

I studied her as best I could from afar. She was wearing a gray pencil skirt and a light blue blouse with three-quarter inch sleeves. There was a darker blue stripe that ran down the middle. Her normally unruly hair was tied neatly into a low bun.

She seemed guarded and mechanical when interacting with the passengers. The smile I remembered that used to light up the room, now seemed fake with a hint of darkness beneath it. Kendall reminded me of myself before I met her. There’s no better profession than flying for people who want to run from their problems.